We are closing our YA review site due to lack of interest. I am leaving the site up for past post but this blog will no longer be maintained. Thanks.
Dorianna by Catherine Stine
What word best describes true love?
Exclusivity. Having Ander love me as much as I love him, having him forget about Lacey
© Finish this sentence: When I think of love, I think of Ander and I cuddling on the Coney Island beach
© What’s your ideal romantic evening?
I loved it when Ander danced with me at my Yellow Party.
© What’s the perfect Valentine’s Day gift?
Ander letting me read his secret journal, him surprising me with a love poem there.
© Did you ever think you’d found that perfect love? What happened?
What happened was that Ander’s still in love with his ex, Lacey. What also happened was Wilson lured me into his enchanted, magnetic trap and now I don’t know how to get out of it!
© What are the ideal traits you’re looking for in a forever love?
Forever-ugh… now that I’m tormented by my inner beast Wilson somehow contaminated me with, and Wilson said I’m basically immortal, I’m not so sure “forever” is a gift! I’d like to grow with Ander, except he’ll grow up and older, but I won’t. How’s that for a dilemma!
© What song title best describes your relationship track record?
“Looking for Love in All The Wrong Places” or Rhianna’s “We Found Love in a Hopeless Place”.
© Why are you still single?
Well, I’m only seventeen. Plus, I’ll be seventeen forever, while my contemporaries age.
© What type of man are you instinctively drawn to?
Soulful, tortured, handsome. A writer like Ander. Unfortunately, I’m also drawn to charismatic, powerful, manipulative guys like Wilson. Ack!
© What’s an absolute deal breaker in a relationship?
My man still being in love with his ex like Ander is. My man being the Prince of Darkness like Wilson is!
© What was your first opinion of each other?
I fell for Ander immediately! At first he was using me to make Lacey jealous. He thought I was plain. That was before my transformation. Still, he did fall for me without any magic on my part. Pretty amazing!
© What first attracted you to each other?
He appreciated I was different than the elegant, jaded city girls in Brooklyn or NYC. I was from rural Indiana. I think he liked that I was kind of hokey, and drove a Dixie Chopper and harvested Brussels Sprouts with a bowie knife. Earthy but bada@s, you know? I liked him because he talked to me from the very first day when I was new at school. Because he was so incredibly handsome yet little boyish too. Not your typical hipster.
© What kept you from acting on that attraction?
I knew he was stringing me along for a while. As soon as he actually fell for me and I sensed it, we kissed.
© Who made the first move and what was it?
We danced together. He stroked my leg on the subway. He kissed me on the forehead, And it just went from there, each delicious step closer.
© What would he have to change to make this relationship work?
He’d have to make a choice between me and Lacey. He’s still too confused because suddenly she wants him back. I think it’s only because she knows I want him. Sucks.
© What would you be willing to change to make this relationship succeed?
I can’t be with him, or anyone, until I kill this goddamn demon inside me. And I don’t know how.
© What could stand in your way?
I can’t tell Ander about my dark side, and I promised myself never to manipulate him through my powers. I have to kill this beast in me. It curses at me, kicks me from the inside out, makes me do horrid things. I’m not acting like my old self. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss that old hokey girl! And Wilson just keep saying he told me there’d be consequences if I made a vow. How was I supposed to know it was for real? I thought he was joking but now it’s too late. I don’t want to hurt Ander. Not at all.
Contemporary/Paranormal Teen Romance
Released October 24, 2014
Internet followers, beauty, power. It all sounded good. Until it transformed into a terrifying reality Dorianna couldn’t stop.
When her father is jailed, her mother ships Dorianna to her aunt’s house. Dorianna yearns to build a new identity, but the popular Lacey bullies her—mostly for getting attention from her ex, Ander.
Ander takes Dorianna to Coney Island where Wilson, a videographer, creates a stunning compilation of her. She dreams of being an online sensation, tired of being plain and lonely, and vows she’d give anything to go viral. Wilson claims he’s the Prince of Darkness and offers her the beauty and fame she’s dreamed of—warning her that a pledge has its downsides. Dorianna has no idea of how dire those consequences might be.
On the way to my new school, I catch a glimpse of my face in a shop mirror. Even though I hate mirrors, I force myself to look. No one needs to remind me I’m plain.
Leaning forward, I examine my pale skin with its tracery of blue underneath. It looks like granny spider veins. And I never smile all the way. That would expose my wonky teeth—one front tooth slightly over the other.
My hair’s limp, but it’s auburn with peachy highlights. I’ve got that going for me, at least. Lifting up a lock, I admire its warm glow in the September sun. And there’s still a hint of eagerness in my eyes––they haven’t knocked that out of me. It’s hope, whispering, “Maybe this place will be different. Maybe they won’t walk past me as if I’m floating dust.”
I’ve been here in Brooklyn for four days, shuffled away from family chaos to my Aunt Carol’s house. She’s nice so far, but I don’t really know her. It’s too bad we could never afford to fly east for family reunions. I do know she’s a fundraiser for a public radio station, and owns one floor in a brownstone. And that she eats vegetarian, and neatly folds the nubbly throws on her earth-tone Pottery Barn couch.
And she’s the sister of my screw-up father.
I’m not sorry I left Wabash. School there was a train wreck. It got so lonely, watching the reigning couples kissing their way down the halls. I wanted someone’s arms around me, too, or at least another good friend after Jen. But it wasn’t meant to be, after gossip spread that my father was sent to jail for committing moral turpitude. My mom took to her bed, and I took over. We were struck with loss and horror and shock all at once. Mom needed me last spring. I tried to help in any way I could, until she insisted that I needed a total break from the family. Or was it Mom who needed the break?
I’m going to suck it up. I am. If she needs the break, she can have it. Maybe I need one, too. I’m determined to pump myself up to face a different army of kids.
Ambling down Montague Street, past the cute boutiques, I soak in the balmy September sun and survey my new stomping grounds. These Brooklyn streets are as delicious as strawberry shortcake. The narrow shops are a wonder of necklaces, handmade with glass bits and bottle tops, and leafy bracelets fashioned from green computer chips.
The caffeine-laced scents wafting from the cyber café draw me in. As I walk by, I sneak looks at the lean, fox-quick boys with scruffy hair, low-slung belts, and tees that read Neon Pandas and Oubliettes of Onyx. Bands I’ve never heard of, since out in Hoosier Land they mostly play country music.
I smile, picturing myself talking to a slinky boy who makes me my very own playlist—he’d call it Songs for a Brooklyn Beauty. A girl can dream, right?
Turning down Court Street, a woman breezes past me in a black jumpsuit. Another dramatic beauty in thigh-high boots floats by, with two dachshunds tugging against their pink leashes. As I glance back at her, I imagine her working as a Broadway actress, dancing across a stage in those fancy boots.
Just then, one of her dogs works free of her grasp, and streaks into the street. “Hey!” I call. “Hey, pup!” I dash after it, grab the pink leather strap, and coax it back toward the curb as a bakery van careens around the corner, the driver pounding on his horn.
The booted lady runs over to me. “Thanks so much!” she says, breathless.
“Happy to help. Couldn’t let your sweet dog be hit.” Our eyes meet as I hand her the leash, and her smile touches me. I watch for another moment as she walks demurely on.
Everything here vibrates with possibility, if I block out my dread of school. It’s my chance to figure out who I want to be, which I couldn’t quite do back home. I can’t wait to let my old, stale-kernel life rot on the vine, and start over.
Reading the sign on a red colonial stone building, I sway with sudden trepidation: School. Ivy sprints up its scholarly walls, and its walkway is marked with marble planters. Each one bursts with purple chrysanthemums, as if this is the cheeriest high school ever. I’m here, no turning back. Look, you’re smart, I tell myself, you tested in and even got a scholarship here. Maybe private school kids are easier on new students. Unlikely, but I’ll give it my best.
Catherine Stine’s YA novels span the range from science fiction to dark fantasy to modern horror. Her futuristic thriller, Fireseed One was a finalist in YA and SF in the USA News International Book Awards and an Indie Reader Approved notable. Its companion novel, Ruby’s Fire was a finalist in the Next Generation Indie Awards. She also writes new adult fiction as Kitsy Clare, and her Art of Love series (Model Position and Private Internship) is about Sienna’s artistic perils in NYC. Her YA paranormal, Dorianna is her new YA horror from Evernight Teen. Catherine’s love of dark fantasy came from her father reading Edgar Allen Poe to her when she was a child. She was also addicted to science fiction as a teen. The freakier the better! She teaches workshops in writing speculative fiction and is a member of RWA, SFWA and SCBWI.
Subscribe to Catherine’s newsletter: http://catherinestine.us6.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=1fe566b1e53f7d3e95b7443e4&id=93554d599e
Ebook of DORIANNA
Signed paperback of DORIANNA
V-neck Dorianna Playing with Fire T-shirt(L fitted)
~up to 25-page manuscript evaluation from Catherine
On any YA or NA novel in progress ~
$25 Amazon Gift Card
Character Interview with FOLLOWING CHELSEA’s main character, 17-year-old Anna Richards:
© What word best describes true love? loyalty
© Finish this sentence: When I think of love, I think of betrayal (I’m hoping to get past that).
© What’s your ideal romantic evening? Working on art together—with occasional make-out breaks.
© What’s the perfect Valentine’s Day gift? Coffee! Coffeecoffeecoffee! It’s the perfect gift for all occasions.
© Did you ever think you’d found that perfect love? What happened? He ditched me and hooked up with my best friend. Totally cliché. Totally painful.
© What are the ideal traits you’re looking for in a forever love? I want need to be able to trust that person with my life. I learned that from a really smart, dorky guy.
© What song title best describes your relationship track record: “Nothing but a Good Time,” “Turn Me Loose,” “Shot Through the Heart (You Give Love a Bad Name)”, “Money Talks/Material Girl”, “Looking for Love in All The Wrong Places”? Shot Through the Heart (ouch)
© What do you find the most appealing about a committed relationship? I’m still not sure any relationship is appealing…I might have to get back to you on this question.
© Why are you still single? Hello? I’m seventeen. Jeez.
© What type of man/woman are you instinctively drawn to? Used to be, hot bad boys, because…well, because hot bad boys. But things have changed. Now, sincerity and honesty outrank pretty much everything else. (God, I sound so old!)
© What’s an absolute deal breaker in a relationship? lying to me
© What was your first opinion of Doran? I thought he was a loser. A nice loser, but a loser. I’m guessing he probably thought I was a bit mean (ya think?).
© What first attracted you to him? His fondness for trees.
© What’s the best thing about the two of you together? To be determined.
Teen Contemporary Romance
words, released Oct. 17
in the footsteps of a dead girl isn’t easy…
Richards wants nothing more than to lie low at her new school. But it seems
Anna looks an awful lot like Chelsea, the sweet and popular girl who recently
died, and Anna finds herself stepping into the void created by Chelsea’s
favor, though, because Chelsea didn’t just leave a spot open with the in-crowd;
she also left a gorgeous—and now available—boyfriend. But it turns out that
following Chelsea might be a lot more complicated than Anna anticipated.
My knife is on the desk between us, partially hidden from my view by an I Heart
My Cat mug stuffed with pens. That knife cost me thirty bucks, so she’d better
give it back.
in the first place?”
been able to get through the heavy-duty packaging of my new graphing calculator
this morning. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t have been able to slash The
Leech’s tires last week, either. That’s not going to help my case here, though,
so I just say, “I use it to open stuff.”
you’re going to have to screw something.” Mrs. Feinstadt’s mouth twitches. “And
there’s a bottle opener.” Tucking my overgrown bangs behind one ear, I reach
forward to demonstrate the wonders of my knife, but she covers it with her hand
and slides it closer to her side of the desk. “Not that I personally need a
bottle opener,” I say, slouching back in my chair, “but it comes in handy when
my mom’s on a bender.”
serious. It’s a potential weapon, Anna. You can’t bring a potential weapon onto
on one of my ever-so-charming fellow students?” I look down and pick at the
chipped blue polish on my thumbnail. Trust me—if I ever pull a knife on
someone, it’ll be you.
hollers for someone to get in hereright now. Stink. Did I say that last bit out
loud? Must’ve, because before I know it, both the secretary and old Mr. Jasper
have moved into place for backup. Great.
Feinstadt says. Suddenly I’m not Anna anymore. I’m this student. The secretary
knows the drill. She calls the police. She calls my mother. And, thanks to this
year’s new safety policies, she initiates a lockdown of the whole freaking
which many students’ belongings have entered and from which none has ever
returned, I try to explain. “I said if I ever pull a knife, which I wouldn’t.
It was hypothetical.”
they naturally take her side and I get the total third degree. After the
officers finish impressing upon me the seriousness of my offense, Feinstadt
exerts her principalian authority and suspends me for two weeks … until right
occasionally masquerades as a poet.
wandering in a blissful daze on the beach near her home on Vancouver Island,
Nurse. She’s married to her high-school sweetheart and has four children.
Author: Lynnette Kraft
Trailer Creator (and Illustrator): Abigail Kraft
YouTube or equivalent link of the trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XkvaBfEvEKc
Ingrid is a character driven juvenile fiction, especially tailored to illustrate courage, sacrifice and the power of forgiveness. The backdrop is a charming village setting mixed with a bit of the supernatural. The characters are complex and likable. The story goes places the reader doesn’t expect and the inspiration is lasting.
: Don’t Look Away…
I just watched a video by John Green in the vlogbrothers Nerdfighteria community and he made a series of powerful statements about the need of clean water in Ethiopia. He has partnered with Water.org and Bill Gates to fundraise and the project is so worthy of love and support.
Why am I letting John essentially photobomb my post? Because, well, the man rocks and this project is amazing, but beneath all of that is this:
His plea for us to NOT look away. In his video, he admitted that the majority of his filming in Ethiopia was of his shoes, because he felt uncomfortable with filming the personal and tragic moments that were happening all around him. And this—this plea to NOT look away—is what Two Breaths Too Late and the #HoldOn2Hope project are all about.
Ellie Walker, the girl in the book who loses her life to suicide, is forced to SEE all that she had looked away from while she was living. She didn’t see the hope that was tucked away. The hope that glistened on even the sharpest of cuts. The hope that lived secretly in the eyes of those she loved. She didn’t see any of it, because her pain eclipsed it all.
Some of us look away from hope.
Some of us look away from pain.
Both are tragic.
Every 2 seconds a suicide happens in the world. A life is lost. Why? It can be depression, mental illness, chronic pain, abuse—there are so many reasons why a person can feel locked alone and desperate. The issue is that we aren’t talking about it. We let the stigma of mental health and suicide blot out the absolute NEED to speak up about it.
We can’t be blind or silent. We have to sit up, look around and see who might need our help, our encouragement, our hope. We have to stand up and say that seeking help is NOT weak. We have to be there when tragedy strikes. We have to be honest when our hearts are hurting.
When I started writing Two Breaths Too Late, I didn’t know the impact it would make on me. I was nervous about writing it. It dealt with such personal issues and it felt like I was being too vulnerable. I felt like I my heart was bleeding onto the pages.
There wasn’t a day that I was writing this book that I wasn’t crying. I don’t say that to mean that I am an incredible writer or storyteller. I say that because deep down I knew that I was writing something true. Something about pain and suffering and loss and it hurt to know that as I was sitting at my kitchen table, laptop open, coffee steaming, that there were men and women out there that were hurting so badly that they felt that taking their own life was their only option. Desperation drove me forward. I wanted to write faster. I wanted reach through the pages and find each and every one of the people that were hurting and hold them close to me and whisper, “Hold on.”
The HoldOn2Hope project is about you and me. About not looking away. About seeing. About reaching out. About CHANGE.
There are one million suicides every year. One million lives lost. What if we didn’t look away from their pain? What if we didn’t look away from our own? What if the world saw?
We can make them see.
One share, one comment, one donation, one conversation with that person sitting alone in the corner, one event about hope and loss, one walk out of the dark, one call to someone who can help, one bold and brave move to HoldOn when all seems lost.
Yes, we can make the world see and life by life we can change the statistic so that we don’t have to feel this loss…this empty feeling of too much space because we know someone should be there to fill it.
The world needs you in it.
Holdon2hope FB page
Rochelle Maya Callen website
You tube cover reveal
Gratitude is all around us and being verbally thankful and aware changes our lives tremendously for the better. Too often people complain about the little things or are silent when those little things don’t cause problems.
Be Grateful: Appreciate Everything to Be Happy is an easy to read collection of aspects of your life important for you to consider and think about in a new light. With the Law of Attraction being so evident in the world and people continuously reading all the motivational books, it’s easy to forget the true essence of this law and our own lives.
Be Grateful: Appreciate Everything to Be Happy brings that back, shifting your perspective so more good will appear in your life as you deserve.
Excerpt of Being Grateful:
Wherever you are in life, wherever you are right at this moment you have much to be thankful.
You likely hear the words “Thank you” as much as you say and hear the words “I’m sorry” in a day, but it’s important to listen to it and say it with meaning. To truly be grateful is to appreciate where you are and where you’ve been, so that you can know where you will be going and as well as how to get there.
With the Law of Attraction being on everyone’s mind, it seems the world still finds it challenging to think in the positive and be appreciative of where they are and what they have. If you struggle with this, or if you don’t really, this book is for you.
Not every chapter may be relevant to you at the time you read it, I encourage you to read it. You may read the chapters in any order you choose; I do encourage you to read them all for greatest effect.
Why? Let’s say, for instance, you don’t currently have your drivers license, so at first you think it silly to be thankful for that. Take a moment and wonder if you would ever like to have your license. To have that independence and freedom to grab the keys and go when you’re ready and not when you can afford a cab or at the whim of another driver. Reading this chapter now will send your intention to your future so it understands how wonderful you will feel when you have your license.
Life is about feeling- something science nor religion can ever truly explain. When you experience gratitude, even in just a small dose, your vibrations are on alert and you smile a little. Standing a little bit taller, you suddenly feel proud and good, no matter who you are, and in doing so reflect this genuine feeling back to others around you.
What would happen if everyone appreciated everything for their experience and what it had to teach them? Quite literally, the world is already filled with energy, so this would work to amplify that magnificence to eventually heal the world.
We all think we want more time in our day. Envy the younger generation for their ability to wake up playing and continue to play all day, if we’d let them. Many of us say we’d be able to play if only we didn’t have to drain ourselves to pay the bills
This attitude stops now.
Sarah Butland was born in Ontario, the year was 1982. She was moved to New Brunswick for over 15 years and now resides at home in Nova Scotia, Canada. Butland has been married to her high school sweetheart and has a superstar son named William, and a cat named Russ who all make her house a home.
Butland started creating while still learning to walk and in years to follow was able to put a writing utensil to paper to document her creations before they were completely lost. Of course, her first manuscripts were in dire need of editing but she didn’t seem to mind nor did her readers.
The first “big break” for Butland came when she was still a teenager feeling like she was unlike every other teenager she knew. She heard from a poetry contest that her poem “Wrong Shell” would be published in their anthology; would she kindly send them thousands of dollars to continue on in the finals. Butland’s parents refused. So began the struggle of discovering which awards were actually earned not bought.
Limiting herself to contest submissions from then on, Sarah Butland realized her career of writing would be a difficult struggle no matter the talent she held inside or was forced out. Many stories, attempts at novels and thousands of ideas later, Butland created BananaBoy and the Adventures of Sammy was born with Sending You Sammy, her first published children’s book. Then came Brain Tales – Volume One, a collection of short stories and finally Arm Farm, her current literary pride and joy.
Butland’s next accomplishment planned to be winning the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award which would then be mentioned among her most joyous literary accomplishments. Unfortunately she didn’t win the 2011 award but is now working on new and greater things like Blood Day – The Novel (tentative title) to be released as soon as possible. Completing it through JANO – January Novel Writing Month is a challenge she accepted!
I was born in Peoria, Illinois, but spent most of my life living in Virginia Beach, Virginia. Currently, I live in Chesapeake, Virginia, which was recently voted the 3rd most boring city in the country. But, I love it. Quiet enough to give me some peace of mind and twenty minutes away from Hipster Norfolk and touristy Virginia Beach.
As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
I watched a lot of Little House on the Prairie reruns on TBS, so I always wanted to be a teacher like Laura. I am gearing up to start my ninth year of teaching middle school.
Tell us about your latest book.
The Language of Silence is my first venture into the YA Contemporary world. It’s a dark and heated tale of two teenagers who are brought together by the loss of someone close to them. While attempting to discover the reasons behind their loved one’s death, Brett and Tristan learn that the darkest secrets are the ones they are keeping from each other.
Do you have anything new in the works and can you tell us a bit about it?
I am about thirty pages into a new manuscript right now about two best friends who decide to road trip it to a music festival before starting college. Shenanigans and scandalous fun will be had.
Is there anything you find particularly challenging about writing?
Staying focused. Netflix is the kryptonite to my writing afternoons. So much so, I often have to force myself to a coffee shop to get some writing done. The writing for television has been so good as of late (Walking Dead, Game of Thrones, Orange is the New Black) that I can’t stay away.
What advice would you give to writers just starting out?
Stick with it and keep writing. Don’t fear rejection because it doesn’t stop once you publish a book. It helps toughen you up, and you can truly learn from it.
Who is your favorite author and why?
I couldn’t name just one. That’s like asking me my favorite snack food, and I LOVE them all. My oldies but goodies are Thomas Hardy, Jane Austen, and Shakespeare. My modern loves are John Green, Gayle Forman, and Stephanie Perkins.
What books have most influenced your life?
The last book to utterly change me was The Fountainhead. I reference it quite a bit in The Language of Silence.
How did you deal with rejection letters?
There were tears at times, but I talked them over with good friends and that helped. So did a good can of PBR.
What tools do you feel are must-haves for writers?
Wit and ability to build a social media platform. You have to be able to play the game.
The Language of Silence
YA Contemporary Romantic Suspense, @66.5k words
Brett is certain that someone is responsible for her brother’s death. He wouldn’t just leave her and his best friend, Ed, behind. Although Tristan’s death is ruled an accident, Brett and Ed know there is something more sinister happening. They are looking for the secret that no one in this small Georgia town of Wendall wants to acknowledge, the truth that may rock the town establishment and particularly one of its most upstanding families.
Together, Brett and Ed must discover the hidden truth behind Tristan’s death and deal with their feelings for each other, or they might just discover the darkest secrets are the ones they are keeping themselves.
“How’d your mom tell you?” Brett offers a short, bitter laugh in response. I scratch my chin and shake my head. “That good, eh?”
“You would think she was auditioning for a Lifetime movie or something.”
For some reason, I laugh. Brett smiles. An actual smile. The kind of smile that transforms a face. If she was beautiful before, she’s luminescent now. These sorts of moments are so rare, so precious, I feel both a need to forever stay in this place and flee it as soon as possible.
I’ve always had a crush on Brett Jensen. I’ve just been smart enough to know that I’m too messed up to ever be with her. And now, with Tristan gone, I’m pretty sure I’m damn near done. Ruined. And maybe that’s what I deserve for not convincing him to stay with us.
“Maybe she thinks Julia Roberts will play her,” she continues, pulling at the grass growing up between the cement base of the bridge. “I mean, this has movie written all over it. All-American boy dies under mysterious conditions.”
Oh, Brett. There is no mystery about it. He left us.
“More likely some has-been from one of those medical shows,” I say instead.
Brett nods. Suddenly, her hand is on mine. I feel the tension she is holding within herself by the pressure she exerts onto my skin. My cheeks burn, and I am ashamed by my body’s quick reaction to this small movement.
“You can be whatever you want now, Ed,” she whispers.
I try to pull my hand from her grasp, but she merely holds on tighter. “What are you talking about?” I manage.
“You have a get out of jail free card thanks to Tristan. You could skip school for a week or flunk the whole year, and no one could say anything. You are…were the best friend of the dead kid. Who would give you grief? You could become anyone.”
She’s holding on so tightly to my hand that I begin to lose feeling. I let her words sink in. Settle. And the funny thing is—they make sense. Perfect sense. I know how I am going to deal with all of this.
Tiffany Truitt was born in Peoria, Illinois. A self-proclaimed Navy brat, Tiffany spent most of her childhood living in Virginia, but don’t call her a Southerner. She also spent a few years living in Cuba. Since her time on the island of one McDonalds and Banana Rats (don’t ask), she has been obsessed with traveling. Tiffany recently added China to her list of travels (hello inspiration for a new book).
Besides traveling, Tiffany has always been an avid reader. The earliest books she remembers reading belong to The Little House on the Prairie Series. First book she read in one day? Little Woman (5th grade). First author she fell in love with? Jane Austen in middle school. Tiffany spent most of her high school and college career as a literary snob. Sherefused to read anything considered “low brow” or outside the “classics.”
Tiffany began teaching middle school in 2006. Her students introduced her to the wide, wonderful world of Young Adult literature. Today, Tiffany embraces popular Young Adult literature and uses it in her classroom.
Giveaway: $25 Amazon Gift Card